“What took you so long?” Creel asked.
He dabbed his high forehead with an already damp handkerchief and glanced around the hotel lobby. He saw at least two reporters sitting across from each other. They both tried to act like they were reading a paper and paying attention to the comings and goings of the busy hotel. However, their occasional scribbles on discretely tucked away notepads betrayed their intent.
“Well,” Achille smiled, “Good morning to you as well.”
Creel’s right eye twitched. It always did when he was nervous. Today, it appeared to Achille that the poor hotel manager attempted to send out his stress via Morse Code with that eye.
“I’m sorry Mr. Poirot,” Creel said. “We’ve never had a theft at the Waldorf Astoria under my watch. If you don’t nip it in the bud and find the thief, both the hotel’s and my reputation will be in tatters.”
Achille took Creel by the elbow and led him to the elevator.
“Take me to the room and we shall investigate without delay,” he said.
Creel’s shoulders visibly relaxed and the eye twitch slowed. As the polished metal doors of the elevator opened, Achille led the way and Creel followed like a puppy. The operator smiled and tipped his hat.
“Where to Mr. Poirot?” he asked.
Each word was punctuated by his chewing on a large stick of gum.
“The fifth floor,” Creel frowned and held out his hand.
Plucking the wrapper out of his pocket, the young man spit his gum into it and handing the wad to Creel. The manager held it in his palms like a bug and tipped it into the ashcan in the corner.
“Sorry Mr. Creel,” the operator mumbled. “It won’t happen again.”
Creel opened his mouth to reply and a bell dinged.
“Ah, we’ve arrived,” Achille said and walked into the hall.
With a quick disapproving glance at the operator, Creel followed.
“Tell me then what you know,” Achille gestured for the manager to lead the way.
Creel folded his arms and walked down the carpeted hall. Aside from a maid dusting a light fixture, they were alone.
“Mrs. Edmonds, wife of Henry Edmunds the financier, arrived yesterday afternoon,” Creel said. “She is staying with us for the weekend until she’ll catch a steamer on Monday to meet her husband in London.”
Creel paused as a door opened and a young couple burst out of their room. They both blushed as they saw the two men. The woman giggled and the man smiled as they hurried past.
“Newlyweds,” Achille smiled.
Creel cleared his throat.
“Yes,” he continued. “Although we have a top rated hotel safe, Mrs. Edmonds insisted that all of her jewelry be stored in her room. Of course, I readily agreed since the Waldorf is the safest hotel in all of New York.”
“And yet,” Achille interrupted. “Sometime during the night, her valuables went missing.”
“A valuable,” Creel corrected. “A rather large ruby necklace was missing from her valise this morning.”
Creel shook his head.
“Actually,” he corrected himself. “The whole necklace was not missing, only the 5 carat ruby stone.”
Achille stopped and raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Creel’s eye began to twitch again. “The diamond studded necklace was on the floor. Upon closer inspection , I could see that…”
He hesitated.
“Yes?” Achille prompted.
“I may be mistaken,” Creel continued. “However, it appeared that the silver setting had been chewed.”
“Chewed?” Achille asked. “The young man this morning said something about a ghost. Do spirits have teeth?”
Creel pulled out his handkerchief again.
“There’s no ghost,” he said. “It’s a silly rumor that’s circulating among the staff.”
“What would cause such a rumor?” Achille asked.
“Well,” Creel hesitated and the twitch increased. “Guests reported hearing a muffled howl during the night and scratching along the hallway.”
The manager stopped at the end of the hall.
“Please don’t mention anything about a ghost to Mrs. Edmonds,” he said as he knocked on the door.
Achille smiled.
“I deal only with the corporeal,” he said. “The spirits that I pursue are in beautiful glass bottles.”
Both men looked up as they heard a slight scratching in a vent above them. The suite door opened and they were greeted by a large bleach blond woman in a bright blue kimono.
“It’s about damn time,” she said and walked back into the room in a trail of cigarette smoke.